


enchanters remind, that time will not unwind

by necrocrunk



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Angst, Dorian leaves for tevinter, M/M, a lil but of fluff, also Motherly Bull, angst out the ass prepare yourself, darcy has anxiety
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-03
Updated: 2015-02-03
Packaged: 2018-03-10 09:03:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3284603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/necrocrunk/pseuds/necrocrunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>dorian travels back to tevinter and the inquisitor uses his friends to cope, basically.</p>
            </blockquote>





	enchanters remind, that time will not unwind

 

"I'm leaving soon." was all he needed to say. It made Darcy's breath hitch in his chest and his mouth go dry. His throat felt like hands were gripping it tight, wringing his airways shut so that he couldn't breathe, or even speak. Dorian expected an answer, though, and he had to supply. With a soft, quick inhale, he swallowed and mumbled back the only thing that wouldn't break halfway through, "Oh." He felt nauseous as he overlooked the balcony, down onto the frozen waters below. Not all the air in the world could help him now. With another carefully planned breath Darcy steeled himself, face falling distant but expressionless. He didn't want Dorian to coddle him; to tell him he was sorry and make him cry. He'd stared down Archdemons and thousand year old magisters but this, the one thing that was becoming constant in his life, was ready to pack up and leave him.

Anxiety was getting the better of him, in his head. "You're not going to let me come with you." Dorian didn't respond, so he took it as a yes. He understood; Tevinter was not friendly to elves. But he wanted to go, so so bad; risk his life just to stand by his side. Dorian would never put him at stake like that. His fingers gripped the banister and he listened to Dorian adjust and readjust in his chair, who was being careful not to get too close to his Dalish amatus. Lavellan's shoulders were drawn up, trying to protect himself from everything, and Dorian knew better than to touch him like this. To startle him, ruin the facade he was building up so he could face him. Darcy's eyes hadn't moved from their long gaze, past the fog and clouds in the icy cold of these mountains.

 

The anxieties spoke louder now. Would Dorian come back? Did he care enough to write? Darcy would most definitely write, but would he respond? He only barely managed to voice one of them: "You don't have to wait for me there, Dorian." He spoke softly, chest physically sending a pang of aching through him, making his breath hitch after he was done with his words. Fuck, his jaw ached too, from how tight he held it. Dorian was still quick to respond, but he paid little mind. "Amatus, no, I never said this would change us. Please- goodness Lavellan please talk to me." He wanted to. His mouth wanted to move, to tell him exactly how he felt. It was selfish. It was selfish and full of himself to ask but he'd done so much for everyone. All he wanted was to wake to sun highlighting his built frame and fall asleep to his murmurings in Arcanum. He wouldn't mind if Dorian never said a word to him for the rest of his life, so long as he warmed the empty space on his bed. Warmth; he'd miss that too.

He'd miss a lot of things. Mostly the overwhelming scent of lavender, spices, and evergreen; something he smelled every time he pressed his face to the crook of his neck. He'd use a word to describe everything about his mage. He was warm. Warm in touch, in actions, in emotion and even in scent. But was he really his? The thought had him swallowing down a sob and holding it down. Forcing it to stay deep in his throat and stay there till it was safe.  
In response to Dorian, finally, he shook his head, bowing it as he looked farther down, back to the water from before. He heard the Altus sigh; a rustle of clothing he could only assume was him rubbing at his neck. "I'm sorry dorian. I don't know what you want me to say." He heard him snort, sitting up as if he'd finally found something he could contribute too. "How you feel is a good starting point?" His tone rose in a question near the end of the sentence. He wasn't wrong, but his feelings were jumbled. Besides jealousy, anger, and sadness, the one he could pinpoint the best was fear. He feared for Dorian's life, for their relationship, for everything. He was terribly and awfully afraid and it made his hands tremble and his shoulders struggle to support his locked arms, knuckles white from their grip on the banister.

  
He couldn't get the words out before his legs, the limbs he'd been focusing on keeping straight and holding him up, caved in on him at the lack of focus and he nearly dropped, Dorian catching him before he hit the floor. He had no snarky remarks, nor a smart jab at his fall. Dorian only pulled him into his lap, letting the trembling elf latch onto anything his hands could grip him while Darcy pressed his face to the crook of his neck and breathed. Slow inhale- hold - soft exhale. The spices soothed his snapped and frazzled nerves while Dorian combed at his red hair, jaw locked shut in an unusual bout of silence.

 

* * *

 

 

Cole stood close to Lavellan when Dorian finally said his goodbyes and sent him a last, slow gaze. He'd be back in about 8 months, he said, but he'd only be visiting. He tried not to let his worries tell him that wasn't true. It had to be, because  _Dorian_ had said it. He wouldn't doubt him. He had better things to worry about. Cole sent him a glance, face showing a tired, tired sense of worry. He'd admit it not then, but having someone else to worry for; to care about, distracted him. He'd had to have worn the spirit (though he was becoming more human very quickly) with all his constant thinking. In a slow movement, he raised an arm, cocking his head at Cole and letting him ease his way into his arms so he could embrace him. It was surprisingly unawkward; he honestly had missed this. Dorian's hugs were nice, protective and wanting. This asked nothing of him. They hugged and he felt okay. He felt okay for just a couple of seconds, but that was lifetime in the weeks of constant pain he'd had wrench his heartstrings.

Cole smiled when he stepped away. Rare but endearing in his own right, and Darcy managed something similar back, crossing his arms and giving a soft sigh. "Would you like to join me for dinner, Cole?" He hadn't eaten in days, but now, the thought of food didn't make his stomach churn. The spirit nodded, a soft, interested sound leaving his lips. He didn't pry at his thoughts like usual, and he was thankful. The silence was enough for him. They ate and occasionally Cole would offer a bit from someone else.

Bull's interest in the girl across the tavern; Sera absolutely could not stand the smell of those damned plums anymore; Varric wonders about how to start his next book since he has the time: "Memories full of green and adventure. He clings desperately to his old friends but they're gone, but that's why he likes you. You remind him of his first companions. You fill in the little spaces he thought were empty for good." Cole keeps his voice low, but Darcy had a feeling Varric knows he's talking about him. He sends Lavellan a compassionate smile, but nothing more.

 

* * *

 

 

He had insisted he go with his companions while looking for rifts. He wanted to. He needed a distraction so desperately. Cullen was the first to stop him, face etched with concern and jaw tight. "I do not think it wise, your worship. I suggest taking some time to assess your... mental state, before you join us." Darcy frowned, but didn't argue. He didn't want to weigh the group down while they searched. So while everyone packed up, he retired to his quarters to slave over papers and stare out the window when that got boring. A knock at his door had the Lavellan back in reality, mind returning from the depths it had decided to wander to.  He sighed, calling that the door was open to whoever had decided to visit. He blinked at the dwarf who stepped though, giving him quite the confused look. "Decided to sit this one out. Thought maybe I'd pay you some company, if you don't mind."

 

Darcy was especially welcoming of some sort of distraction from his acquaintance, and gestured to his room. "Make yourself comfortable. It's always better than silence." Varric had no hesitation in sitting himself down on his couch, getting comfortable in the plush cushions and giving a soft, 'content' sigh. The dwarf produced a book not soon after, looking more like he was scanning it if anything. Still, Lavellan did not complain. It was better than that of an empty room. His chest tightened at that thought, a rough breath leaving him against his own will. He made a pained expression, shifting in his seat and turning his focus to signing papers again.

Varric interrupted his new train of thought, "You know, if you need to talk, Inquisitor..." He shook his head, though, "I'd rather not, really. i would, on the other hand, like to hear more about your friends." He glanced up to the other, smiling when Varric gave a nostalgic smirk and closed his book, setting it to his side. Darcy was genuinely curious as to who exactly they all were, since Varric was usually quoting their adventures. "Depends; what did you want to know?" He mulled it for a second, "Hm, anything you have say. Something to fill this damned quiet." Quiet was so unusual to him. He did not revel in it, like some people. White noise kept him nearly sane and filled all the little cracks in his head that leaked his anxieties into his thoughts. 

Varric chuckled and sat up, staring at the wall for a few long seconds, "Hm, where to even start. You want a life story or in a nutshell?" Darcy chuckled, shrugging. "I'd be interested in how you've chalked your life story up." Varric laughed right back, "Me too."

 

* * *

 

 

The Inquisitor had risked finally trying to return to his normal duties. Visiting the library to study Fade and Veil magic (avoiding both Solas' and Sorian's work spaces. The elf may have hated him, but it was lonely to see him gone), occasionally sending others on missions on the war table, and visiting his remaining friends around Skyhold. He wanted to put as much forward as possible and help. It was the best, most beneficial distraction he could think of. He wrote to the keeper in the meantime, worried for their well-being and altogether considering visiting them again. Everything was as close to normal as it would get, apart from the occasional comment on the bags under his eyes and ' _You're so pale are you okay? Do you need anything?_ '.  He wanted nothing to do with those people, usually. He was okay for quite a while, mind elsewhere while he waited for his mage's letter to arrive. Yes, he was okay until he overhead a group talking while he ate lunch, and all it took was a murmur of " _Poor sod, that 'Vint loves his homeland more than him_." before he was standing, turning his bowl away to Sera and retreating back to his room to calm his thoughts. He was back to square one over one measly comment, but one that struck painfully home.

The one who tried to comfort him next wasn't completely unexpected; Bull was a kind soul at heart, once you got to know him. He cared a great deal for nearly everyone, and he was eager to help if he could. He was the one companion Darcy had sort of suspected would say something eventually. Iron Bull rapped his fingers on his door with a soft call of his clan name, having a bit of trouble stepping through the doorway as he closed it behind him. "Haven't seen you in a couple of days, was hoping to get a leg up on the bets from people who think you're dead." Darcy laughed at that, sitting back in his chair and setting his hands in his lap. "Well, still alive. Hope that's what you wagered your money on." They shared a brief moment of amusement before the mood turned solemn, leaving the Inquisitor to stare down at his hands while Bull searched for a way to speak what he wanted. He flopped onto his couch and patted a seat, head tilting towards the area. "Come sit with me. You're always up here; I can't imagine you do anything but stare at those papers all day, boss. Everyone needs a break once in a while."

The Inquisitor was slow to stand, but he moved to sit with the large Qunari, as instructed. Bull rested a hand on his back, not too low, but just in a friendly, comforting fashion. He sighed, risking a glance up at him when he started to talk. "You can't let what a couple of idiot nobles say get to you. I know you've been avoiding the subject, but you and Dorian..." he smirked at him, "You two are something else. I know I give him a hard time, but don't give up on him just because he's not with you now." Darcy was immediately pressing his hands into his face, trying hard to steady his breathing.

"I'm not even lonely. I have people surrounding me eager to help and I let them. I feel like I'm overreacting but, I'm just scared this isn't what he wants. I can't read signals in letters." Bull gave a scoff, leaning slightly to level with the Dalish "I don't think Dorian would break his loyalty like that."

"I know that. I think everyone knows that, that doesn't stop me from thinking about it." He heard the Qunari sigh in defeat. What did you say in response to that? "You've got a point, boss. Look, I'll make a deal with you," He offered, bargaining for a smile like you would a child, his hand rubbing gentle circles into his shoulders. "If he breaks your heart, I'll break that pretty staff of his. How's that sound?" Darcy wiped his face, smiling slightly. He leaned into him and relaxed for the first time in nearly a week. "Deal." The Iron Bull chuckled, arm circling his shoulders now. "I hope this is okay, Bull. Everyone else tries to coddle and console me, and I appreciate it, but I still enjoy just having a good time." The Qunari nodded, "How about a drink at the tavern then?" Darcy nodded back, "That sounds wonderful."

 

* * *

 

 

A few weeks before Dorian's planned arrival, Darcy suddenly gained a new-found motivation to do  _everything._ He came back from the Hissing Wastes to close up the last of the rifts there and felt like he'd accomplished something amazing once he returned. His good mood rubbed off on his companions, too. Being alone still made him quiet and solemn, but eventually he'd be a jittery mess, thoughts scattered with the reminder that Dorian would be back a little earlier than expected. He read over the letter whenever his thoughts traveled, and found himself grounded, right back where he needed to be. Nothing but Dorian could tear him apart now. 

Within a week of his return from the deserty wasteland, Darcy was being waken from a relatively peaceful slumber to the click of his door. He was awake in seconds, the darkness of the early, early morning still present as he tried to roll out of his bed and fumble for his blades. He heard them speak, voice overlapped with a chuckle. "Easy  _your worship_ " They lulled, door closed behind him. "I was hoping to sneak into bed with you and let you wake, but this'll have to do." 

Darcy struggled to pull himself, limbs feeling heavy. He felt a sense of disbelief, but he was sure. The cool smell of pine and the warm aurora of lavender was too strong for him to be wrong. Darcy climbed back onto his bed and over it to where Dorian stood on the opposite side, hands grabbing at his clothes and tugging him down hard enough to having him bracing against the mattress, hovering over the elf while he pressed kisses to his jaw. "S-shit, I hate you so  _much._ It's so quiet when you're not here. Who am I supposed to bother in the library when you and Solas aren't here." Dorian laughed, voice cracking as he did; he must have been as emotional as he was, "The ravens are good company" with a snort at his reply, the elf finally moved to kiss his lips, the mage pressing back eagerly. He'd missed this, the taste of warm spices and Tevinter wine. He had to stop eventually, arms circling his neck to hold him while he buried his nose in his neck.

"Mmph, lay with me." and the mage complied, kicking off his boots and managing to pry a couple of buckles apart (He'd opted for some simpler clothes in his travels; they were much less heavy) so that his coat fell to the floor. He eased to lay beside him, arm wrapping around his waist and holding the warm Dalish elf as close as possible. "As glad as I am that I know what it feels like to pine for someone, I hope I never have to do it again." He sighed into his hair, legs tangling with Darcy's while he ached for warmth. "I do have some good news, amatus. Some that you'll be happy to hear." The elf made no move to remove himself from his collar, only offering a small hum of interest. 

 

"Mm, well, I've spoken with my connections and assistants in Tevinter. We've decided it may be a bit too dangerous for me to directly house in those lands." His breath had stopped as soon he his the word dangerous, "So I'll be staying in Skyhold. As common as the occasional assassin can be in my homeland, better safe than sorry. I've already spoken with Lelianna-" Darcy whined and pulled away, a grin starting to cover his lips. "I don't want details right now-" He pecked the corner of his mouth, "I just want to be quiet  _together_ for a little while. Just until the sun rises."

Dorian chuckled, arms circling the lithe elf and relaxing against him. "We can do this for as long as you want, amatus, I've no need to be ordered."


End file.
